Cross My Heart
by n00blit
Summary: Verlyn Lightstrider is a Blood Elf who develops a unique, forbidden relationship with a human. Together, they strive to stop the constant fighting between Horde and Alliance and achieve peace. But in this time of war, is peace really achievable?
1. Important! Notes to the Reader

_Writing fan-fictions for World of Warcraft can be tricky due to the differences between game play and real life situations. If you're confused about some of the circumstances in the Cross My Heart universe that don't match up with the rules of the World Of Warcraft game universe, these notes will clear up the confusion. Included in Notes to the Reader are rules of the universe in which Cross My Heart takes place. Other notes will be included in later chapters, but here are some basics._

Notes to the Reader

1) In World of Warcraft, mounts are "summoned" and "un-summoned", implying that the mount is never present unless the character is riding it. In Cross My Heart, the mount is free-roaming until it is summoned to the rider from any location. After dismounting, the mount is not "un-summoned" but is free-roaming until it is summoned once again.

2) In World of Warcraft, players may be on the verge of death and then at full health again in less than a minute, depending on the HP of the character. In Cross My Heart, injuries and recovery times are more realistic.

3) In World Of Warcraft, a character's level determines its power. In Cross My Heart, levels do not exist. However, the higher level zone that a character in Cross My Heart is "training" in, the higher his/her experience is. So for example, in World of Warcraft, if a character leveling in The Barrens tried to attack a character leveling in Northrend, the former would probably barely be able to hit the latter. In Cross My Heart, the Northrend character is stronger and more experienced, but may still be killed by the Barrens character if they were not directly sparring (poison, sneak attack, etc.).

4) In World of Warcraft, you can quickly travel by riding a gryphon/wyvern almost anywhere from all the flight paths. In Cross My Heart, flight masters are rare and very expensive. Traveling by mount is considered more convenient.

5) In World of Warcraft, you may travel through a zone by mount in less than 5 minutes. In Cross My Heart, the zones are real world sized rather than game sized. It may take several hours or days to travel through zones.

6) In World of Warcraft, healing yourself or others can take you from 10% health to 100% almost instantly. In Cross My Heart, healing takes a great deal more effort and time and is not as effective. The time it takes to heal wounds depends on the severity of the wound itself (scrapes and very small cuts may be healed in seconds but deep gashes and broken bones take several hours or days). Healing may also be used to stop bleeding and/or pain.

7) In World of Warcraft, there are different pools from which certain classes draw their power (mana, energy, rage, focus). In Cross My Heart, all classes draw their power from their own personal stamina. Ex: A character who is fully rested and fed has full stamina and an exceptional amount of power for their abilities. Someone who has been fighting or healing for an extended amount of time, has not eaten in days, or who has not slept in days may not have enough stamina to perform their abilities.

_If there are any further questions or confusion, please feel free to contact me via private message! Thank you for reading!_


	2. Prologue and Character Bio

_DISCLAIMER: WARCRAFT BELONGS TO BLIZZARD. VERLYN LIGHTSTRIDER AND ALL OTHER ORIGINAL CHARACTERS BELONG TO ME._

Prologue

Verlyn Lightstrider is not a traitor.

At least, that's how she sees it.

She is no traitor to her family, her race. She would never hurt them, or anyone, for that matter. In fact, just the thought of being at fault for the harm of another living creature sends her into a state of unease. No, Verlyn Sunstrider is no traitor.

But in the eyes of those that she loves the most, she is the most treacherous of them all. In a world where looking at a member of the opposite faction as anything but a wild animal is considered an unjustifiable transaction, a black and white world where people only see others as a member of the Horde or Alliance, a world where one's enemies are decided before one is even born. In a world like this, how could they not see her as such?

Character Bio

Name: Verlyn Lightstrider

Gender: Female

Race: Blood Elf

Age: 136

Birth date: April 6th

Personality traits: often makes good decisions and thinks things through, is a good strategist, but panics in stressful situations, can be a bit naive

Likes and Hobbies: Animals, helping people, watching the sky

Dislikes and Fears: Fighting, being a burden, not beind able to do anything for a person in need of help

Strengths: healing

Weaknesses: Offence, depends on others to do the fighting for her

Dreams and Talents: to become a better soldier and help the heroes of Azeroth

Ambition/Life-long dream: wants to live to see the world in an era without war

Siblings: none

Birth place: Outskirts of Silvermoon City

Family History: comes from a long line of noble, weathly and socially respected Blood Elves

Body Type: has a slightly small build, even for her race, only a bit shorter than most other female blood elves

Height: 167cm

Weight: 50.2kg

Accesories: Earring studs on the top end of her ears

Hairstyle: hair is light strawberry blond colour, short, barely halfway down her neck, brushed out of her face.

Favourite food: Strawberries and any other type of berry

Favourite colour: Yellow

Favourite season: Summer

Favourite time of day: Midday

**This is my first fanfiction, or story in general. =P Terribly new to this whole thing, so legit R&R advice and feedback would be awesome :)**

**Also, Verlyn's physical traits are based off of a toon of mine (who isn't named Verlyn lol). I took a couple of screenshots so i wouldn't feel obliged to draw her, which i will probably end up doing eventually anyway. The links to the pictures on my photobucket will be posted on my profile.**

**Anyway, i don't know how often i'll be updating; i'm not a big writer. I'm lost, so seriously, any feedback at all would be helpful XD**

**Thanks for reading!**


	3. Home

_DISCLAIMER: WARCRAFT BELONGS TO BLIZZARD. VERLYN AND OTHER ORIGINAL CHARACTERS BELONG TO ME._

_IMPORTANT: If you've been keeping up with this series, or have previously read it, you may or may not have noticed that I have completely changed the point of view from third person limited (Verlyn) to first person (Verlyn) since third person is generally harder to write with and develop the story with and this is my first time writing. Sorry for the inconvenience and poor planning on my part!_

Chapter One

I kneeled next to the river and watched as the small fish fluttered towards me, plucking the small pieces of stale bread from the surface then quickly retreating again to nibble at the snack. The sun was low in the sky, and it glowed on the surface of the water, transforming it into a flowing, golden ribbon. I had just finished eating dinner with my mother and father and was feeding leftovers to my tiny friends, like I always did. I stood, reducing the rest of the bread to crumbs and tossing it in the river, and gazed out past the edge of the forest at the ocean beneath the cliffs.

Eversong Woods was always the most beautiful at sunset, when the autumn leaves on the trees glowed in the orange sun and cast detached shadows onto the forest floor. The forest was still and at peace. It was as if every living creature in the grove had stopped to admire the sun's retreat. In the still moment, the forest seemed to be perpetually lingering in the moment between an exhale and an inhale. When the ocean breeze picked up, I drew in a deep breath of the warm, salty air, trying to engrave the smell and taste into my memory. I wanted to stay trapped in that moment. I wanted to keep the sunlight in my pocket and take it with me like a talisman where ever I went. I wanted never to forget the cream colour of the bark on the trees and the way the trunks wrapped around themselves. I wanted never to have to leave my lovely home again. And though I tried, I couldn't stop reminding myself that I had to leave that night.

I reluctantly tore myself from the landscape, and shuffled back home. The sky continued to darken as I approached my nostalgic home. Despite the fact that I was the only child of the Lighstrider family, I've always lived in a house larger than was neccessary to keep just me, my mother, and my father. Generations of wealthy Lightstriders had lived in the finest houses in Eversong Woods, in magestic structures with gold and red pillars that curled like a flame at the end, and embelishments climbing the walls outside. Being surrounded by the Blood Elves' enchanting cultural designs as I grew up molded my perception of beauty into one befitting my race. And in spite of my tree-hugging nature, I often preferred to indulge in the finer things in life.

I walked through the misty drapes into my home to find my mother tending to the fireplace. When she saw me, she gave a relieved sigh. "Verlyn, I almost let myself think you had left without saying goodbye." She patted her hand on the plum-coloured pillows next to her, motioning for me to sit next to her.

"I was watching the sun set. You would have loved it, Mother. It was so beautiful." I plopped onto the pillows next to my mother.

She smiled warmly and brushed my hair back. "Don't worry about me, I can watch the sun set anytime."

"Lucky you..." I pouted.

She laughed. "There's no need to be down about leaving, dear. You know you can come and visit any time you want."

"Yeah, well, this is almost a four day trip for me. I can't just pop in any time I'm feeling nostalgic."

"Yes, I know. You rarely visit anymore." she said, trying to make me feel guilty, no doubt.

"It's not that I don't want to, you know that. I've just been so concentrated on training."

She pulled me into a hug. "Just do your best and be careful, Pumpkin Head."

I grimaced at the old nickname. Both my parents used to call me Pumpkin Head when I was little because of the colour of my hair. It wouldn't have been unusual, if it weren't for the fact that my father had dirty blond hair and my mother had light chestnut-coloured hair. Evidently, my strawberry blond had skipped a generation.

"Alright, Mom!" I squeezed out of her arms.

"Have a safe trip, dear. And don't forget to say goodbye to your father. He's in the study."

"Okay, see you!" I made my way to the winding ramp that hugged the wall and lead to the second floor where the study was.

I poked my head in the room. "Father?"

He was reading silently next to the window as I entered the room. He looked up from his text and removed his reading glasses. "Verlyn," he resolutely acknowledged my greeting.

"I'm leaving now, Daddy." I made my way over to him and wrapped him in a hug. "I'll come back and visit you and Mom soon, okay?"

He hugged me back. "I know you will, Dear. Just be careful."

"Okay, bye!" I waved to him as I walked back through the doorway, but stopped in my tracks when I remembered about the note in my inside pocket. I spun around and bolted back over to my father who nearly started at the sudden burst of energy. "I can't believe I almost forgot this!" I handed the note to him, carefully folded into an ornamental envelope. "Could you give this to Azahel when he returns, please? I haven't had the chance to see him in almost a year now, so I thought I would leave him a letter in case he comes back after I leave."

As I expected, my father looked more than a little disgruntled upon hearing the mention of Azahel's name.

Azahel was an unrestrained childhood friend of mine who eventually became like an older brother to me. He was about 20 years older than me, which is only a small age difference to the elves. We were both still children when I first met him; I found him in the woods outside my garden, trying in vain to catch fish from the stream. I offered to teach him how, and I did. He began visiting the stream more often and eventually, we were nearly inseperable. I spent the majority of my time with him, much to my parents' chagrin; because while he was pure-hearted and spirited, Azahel was quite the troublesome child. His mother raised him alone, and rarely stepped in to put a stop to his michievious adventures that very often included me. Most of the Blood Elves who knew him, only knew about the fact that he was a trouble-maker who spent time with the Lightstriders' daughter. He was almost always dirty and seemed to break most of the frail, elven fruniture he came across, but I didn't care in the least. Decades passed, and we grew so close that Azahel began introducing me as his sister, and so I introduced him as my brother. When Azahel first left to train in the Ghostlands south of their home, I worked hard to keep up with his progress, realising that he had an enourmous advatage over me in that he had a natural gift for fighting. Nonetheless, we stayed in contact with each other by whatever means we could. We normally didn't let any more than 6 months pass before we met with each other.

This is what particularly frustrated me about having to leave my home again. A meeting with Azahel was at least 5 months overdue by now. And I had no definite way of getting in contact with him or knowing where he might be. I knew that, more than likely, we were both continuously and unintentionally crossing each other's paths whilst trying to find one another. This had happened before about 15 years ago, and I could remember how we laughed about it when we finally did meet up, saying that if a situation like that ever occured again, that we would meet at a designated middle ground in Shattrath City.

Although I desperately needed to return to my training, I decided that meeting with Azahel after such a long time was more important. I had the name of the city's inn burned into my memory. That's where I would head as soon as I set out. And if Azahel happened to come back to Eversong Forest, he would be led back to Shattrath through my note.

After I made my father swear not to thrown the note in the fire, and saying goodbye to my mother again, I rode off toward the Translocator Orb in Silvermoon City.

**WOOHOO! First chapter is donneee. I hope it's not too short _ I feel like I don't leave anything to the reader's imagination. That is, i use too much detail =P**

**Anyway, i hope you enjoyed. Please R&R! I desperately need it! XD**

**Thanks for reading!**


	4. Jungle

DISCLAIMER: WARCRAFT BELONGS TO BLIZZARD. VERLYN LIGHTSTRIDER AND ALL OTHER ORIGINAL CHARACTERS BELONG TO ME.

_Note to the Reader__: PvP flags do not exist in Cross My Heart. Everyone is vulnerable all the time. In World of Warcraft, it is common to see a member of the opposite faction in sanctuaries (Dalaran, Shattrath, Acherus: The Ebon Hold) but in Cross My Heart, sanctuaries are more discriminative, with separate areas for Horde and Alliance. This also applies to general zones all over Azeroth and Outlands in Cross My Heart._

Chapter Two

Tirisfal Glades was not my favourite place in the world. It was, in essence, the exact opposite of Eversong Woods. The air was thick with fog or smoke–perhaps both–that covered the sky and ground and cast a dark shadow over everything, so that it always seemed like nighttime, even during the day. I could not say for sure whether the misty orb in the sky was the moon or the sun. If the gloomy atmosphere wasn't enough, I felt like everything there was dead. The trees, the grass and shrubbery, and of course, the people.

I didn't dislike the undead race at all. In fact, I found most of them to be very pleasant. The only problem was that most of them didn't feel quite the same way about me.

I waited patiently for the next zeppelin to Orgrimmar to arrive in the company of only a pair of Death Guards from the Undercity and a Goblin engineer. I was grateful when the zeppelin arrived, to get out of the air that was heavy with a sorrow that I couldn't comprehend.

I was excited to pass through Orgrimmar however, as I would be passing through any populated city. I wasn't especially social, so seeing so many people in one place always gave me a rush. When I got off the zeppelin, I headed straight to the centre of trade between the bank, the auction house, the inn, and Grommash Hold. There, I found an enormous amount of people of every class and race. So many, in fact, that I often found it difficult to step out of someone's way without bumping another's shoulder.

I managed to find an Orc selling meat and other foods, and purchased from him the food I would need for the trip that I was not brave enough to purchase from the dubious fungus vendor pacing the canals of the Undercity.

I thanked the Orc to which he responded with a stout "Strength!" as I walked off. This made me smile as I made my way back to the zeppelin. Unlike most Blood Elves who simply saw them as savages, I was especially fond of the Orcish race. I recalled Azahel telling me how he envied the Orcs. "They're so passionate about everything they do. They're thick-blooded and they always make sure to honour their people. If i could choose, I would want to be an Orc myself." He had asked me what I would choose as well and I had said Tauren because they're so peaceful in nature. But I have always held an unusually high amount of respect for the Orcs.

I said a silent farewell to the buzzing city when I climbed on the zeppelin just before its departure. Sitting back to enjoy the rest of the ride to Stranglethorn Vale, I routed out in my head the path I would take to the Dark Portal and then to Shattrath.

The trip only took about a day. I knew without looking out when we had arrived in Stranglethorn. The jungle was humid and hot, and it was literally buzzing with life–mostly insects.

When the zeppelin stopped, I didn't waste any time summoning my charger and riding out of Grom'Gol and north towards Duskwood.

The road along the way was narrow, but high, allowing a clear view of the jungle. And as I was riding, a certain figure caught my eye. It first grabbed my attention because of the movement, but upon further inspection I saw that it was a large feline, which would not have been out of the ordinary in such a jungle as Stranglethorn, if not for the fact that it was attacking another darker-skinned wild cat.

I slowed to a trot as I scrutinized the curious situation. Now that I really looked, despite the commotion occurring in the distance, I was sure that cats with that particular skin pattern didn't exist in the jungles of Stranglethorn. One was a normal looking panther, but the other had white speckles across its back and down its tail.

The spotted cat gave a final powerful swipe to the jungle cat and it fell to the ground. I watched, curious now as to what this foreign feline's motive was. I started when I saw a movement from behind the trees. It was a Night Elf.

I froze, panicking at first. Was I expected to attack the young Night Elf? I had never been exposed to war areas where Horde and Alliance fought every day for territory. I knew of many that had, but I never thought I would need to. The thought of killing other people, regardless of their faction, was too much for me to handle. I didn't want to attack the Night Elf girl.

The Elf approached the corpse as the speckled cat circled back behind her. She was a huntress, no doubt. The ranged weapon on her person was proof of that, if the companionship of the feline had not already made it obvious. I made up my mind not to linger and pretend as if I never saw the young Night Elf in hopes of avoiding unnecessary conflict. I was far enough away that, if I kept moving, I would be out of sight and out of trouble in no time at all.

As I rode off, I noticed in the corner of my eye the Night Elf stand straight up suddenly. It appeared as if she had spotted me. However, I was so far away at this point that I would be in Duskwood by the time she thought to pursue me.

The sun fell lower in the sky as night approached. I was far north in Stranglethorn, almost in Duskwood. I came near to the end of the road where it branched apart and stopped for a moment to check my map. To the left was a long, slender path that wound up father into the jungle and eventually led to a small Alliance camp. It was no real threat, but I made sure to keep far away from it. If I squinted, I could barely make out the border of Stranglethorn and Duskwood ahead.

Before I could move, I heard movement behind me. I looked, out past the trees. There was nothing that I could see, but the sun was blinding, setting on the horizon. I sat still for a moment, trying to hear the movement again when a twig snapped, this time much closer. My eyes darted over just in time to see the same Night Elf from earlier that day, only this time she was much closer, and she was drawing an arrow in her bow, pointed at my heart.

I acted quickly, leaping off my charger and barely dodging the arrow. My horse, startled, was sent galloping up the road. I knew that at this distance, it wouldn't be much use trying to ride away anyway.

As the Night Elf drew a second arrow, I offhandedly took note of the similarities between us. I had never seen a Night Elf this close before. Or any member of the Alliance for that matter. The Night Elf had a more muscular build than most female Blood Elves, but she still seemed weightless. Her skin was blue and as pale as the moon and her eyes had a misty silver glow to them. I felt a brief and unexpected wave of regret that we would never be able to understand each other because of these differences, despite the fact that there were several striking similarities between us as well.

She shot another arrow that I nearly dodged, but when it approached me, it burst into flames next to me, throwing me back and burning my right arm badly. I hit the ground and quickly rolled out of the sight of the huntress behind a large tree. The burns were not critical, given that the arrow missed, but the pain was not so subtle. I frantically attempted to create a plan while I tried to heal some of the wound. Despite my lack of battle experience, I knew that a hunter's greatest weakness was melee combat. The only reason I knew that I was safe at the moment was because the huntress would not dare try to approach the tree and come within melee range of me. As a paladin, I would have the advantage in close combat, even though my specialization was healing. I knew I had to get close enough to the Night Elf to at least try to stun her and take the time to escape. Fighting her was my last resort. Killing her was out of the question.

I peeked around the side of the trunk after the pain in my arm had settled at least a little. I didn't expect the Elf to still be standing in plain sight, arrow drawn, waiting for me to make a move.

We were at a stand-off. One of us would have to make a move. Unless...

I remembered too late that a huntress never entered battle without a pet. I whipped around just as the massive cat leaped in the air towards me, teeth bared and claws extended. The cat's paw landed heavily on the side of my skull and crashed my head into the tree. The world spun above me as I slid to the ground. The edges of my vision darkened and my eyes rolled, trying to find stillness. I swiped my arms through the air blindly, trying to ward off any second attack from the feline. As my vision slowly returned, I stood shakily and tried desperately to find my attacker.

Suddenly, the blaring Sun was cut off from the west and I spun to face the Elf. Even in my unsteady state, I could see the silhouette of the huntress with an arrow already surrounded by pulsing, red energy pointed toward me.

My head was heavy and my body responded slowly but I made one last attempt to surround myself with a protective shield of light to ward off the arrow before the cat behind me plowed its claws into my back, ripping my flesh. A choked cry escaped my throat as I fell to my knees. My whole body was numb with pain. I could only barely recognise the warmth of the blood gushing from my back. As my vision began to blur, I looked back up to the Night Elf. She was only a dark shadow now, her features drowned out by the angry, orange rays of the sun. Her steaming eyes were the last thing I saw before the arrow was released, and flew into my chest. The force that threw me back onto the ground was what I felt before the searing ache of the arrow in my side, rotting my flesh, drowned out all the other pain.

Each second I laid on the ground in the agony of my pain was torture. In shock and too weak to even scream, I prayed that the Night Elf would find some goodness in her heart to kill me quickly. Minutes passed and I realised that the Elf was no longer nearby. She had left me to suffer as I bled to death on the jungle floor.

I couldn't bleed out fast enough.

The only sound I could hear was my heart desperately trying to pump the last of my blood through my body. All I could taste was the blood spilling into my mouth. And the only thing I saw was the tops of the trees above, finally being swallowed by the darkness.

**It's been a while since i last updated, but here's this chapter for like the two people who are reading this =P I don't really feel like I did well with this chapter at all. Honestly, writing is just not my forte. As always, please R&R! :)**

**Thank you for reading!**


	5. Inn

DISCLAIMER: WARCRAFT BELONGS TO BLIZZARD. VERLYN LIGHTSTRIDER AND ALL OTHER ORIGINAL CHARACTERS BELONG TO ME.

_Note to the Reader__:Cross My Heart is set in the time period before the cataclysm. This note has less to do with the lore and more to do with the fact that the highest level zone is Northrend and Azeroth has not been attacked by Deathwing._

_The story is written in 1st person (Verlyn's thoughts only). Therefore, Orcish (the language) will be written in English because it is the dominant language in the story. Common (Human language) will be written the way players in World of Warcraft see a member of the opposing faction speak (essentially gibberish). Additionally, Thalassian (Blood Elf language) will be written in English to avoid reader confusion since Verlyn also speaks Thalassian. It will be specified when Thalassian is being spoken as opposed to Orcish._

Chapter Three

If there was such a thing as peace after death, I had not found it. I was no where, surrounded by nothing. It wasn't dark or light, or anything in between. The only thing I was actually conscious of was the fact that I was in an enormous amount of pain. There was no certain way to say how much time was passing. What was a few seconds felt like hours. And if hours were passing by, they only felt like seconds. As I became more aware, I began to pick up on sounds around me. A soft ticking, whistling of a bird; peaceful sounds that betrayed the discomfort I was in. I let out a deep groan as light began to creep underneath my eyelids. My pulse picked up and made my wounds throb under the pressure of...bandages?

My eyes shot open and everything rushed back to me at once. The Alliance huntress, my journey to see Azahel, my life slipping away from me...

My eyes groggily adjusted to the morning sun beaming mercilessly through the window and I found that I was in bed, in an unfamiliar room. I surveyed my surroundings. The furniture was simple and spare. It definitely wasn't elven. Perhaps Orcish? I wondered where I was, who had happened to find me bleeding on the side of the jungle path, and how long I had been unconscious (which was a long while if my stomach had anything to say about it).

I placed one hand tenderly over the wound in my side, wincing at the spark of pain it caused. I tried to sit up a bit on the pillow but my injuries were unforgiving and I only managed to sit up halfway. With the very little energy I had, I tried to at least soothe some of my pain through the bandages.

My attention was soon arrested elsewhere though, when the sun reflected off of the metal base of the lamp on the nightstand right next to the bed. There were several books stacked on the stand but something else was strange. I reached over with my free hand to pick up a bluish grey book on the top. I flipped through the pages, confused. I couldn't read it. It wasn't in a familiar language. It was then that I once again wondered where exactly I was. I looked around the room a second time, my brows furrowed, as I mindlessly reached over to replace the book. I felt it slip from my fingers and I whipped my head around just in time to see books toppling over each other and sliding off the desk onto the floor, thumping quite loudly against the carpet. I instinctively tried to move to pick them up but was reminded of the searing pain of my wounds and stopped short.

Silence filled the room for a short moment before I heard movement from the floor below. I rolled my eyes at my own gracelessness. My life is saved by a complete stranger and the only thing I can do in return is mess the room up.

As the door was unlatched, I opened my mouth, prepared to apologize about the mess immediately. But when I saw the man in the doorway, I stopped.

I did not immediately process that he was a human.

Instead, I tried to see him as a Blood Elf. I searched for the glow of arcane energy in his eyes and noted how odd he looked without long, pointed ears. It was like trying to jam a puzzle piece in a place that it didn't fit and my brain tripped over itself trying to make sense of his appearance. It was only when a human woman appeared behind him did the truth start to seep into me.

They both started when I screamed. The man was trying to say something but I could not hear him not did I care to listen.

I hoped someone might hear me from downstairs and realise that there were humans in the building. They must have snuck in somehow or they might have killed the innkeeper?

Either way, it certainly looked to be causing them a bit of panic because the woman quickly shoved the man forward and slammed the door shut behind them. She hissed angry words at the man in a language I didn't understand. The man approached the bedside trying to quiet me down no doubt. This only made my screams rise an octave. I tried to back away but was reminded once again of my wounds when my body wailed in protest.

Before I could recover from the shock of the painful movement, the man slapped a hand over my mouth, effectively silencing me. I looked up at him, eyes wide.

"We will not harm you," he said slowly.

I just stared at him, trying to believe his words. He stared back intently like he was trying to make me believe them too. Even in my panic, I noticed how different he looked from any person I had ever seen before. His eyes were a light hazel, almost orange. His shoulders were not as slight as a Blood Elf's but not as broad as an Orc's. His facial features were gentle, but fierce. There was an enormous amount of energy flowing from him that I could sense from our close proximity. I had felt something like it before. It was a fighting spirit. He was true warrior at heart.

"Do you understand?" he asked.

"Mmmhhm," I whimpered weakly into his hand.

Just then a knock came at the door behind the woman and a voice from the hallway. All three of us froze. The knock came again and the same muffled voice from outside the door. The man's hand was still placed over my mouth. Weak and still in pain, I looked at him in the corner of my eye, trying to figure out what his move would be. Now that he had been discovered, would he kill me and try to escape?

He said something to the woman in that same foreign language. It was only then that I realised that he had been speaking to me in Orcish before. He could speak Orcish? Why could a human speak Orcish? How could he even know it?

The woman opened the door only enough to look out; her body blocked the view into the hallway. I lurched forward, anticipating the death of the poor soul who came to find what caused such a ruckus. But the man was strong and he held me back with ease, his hand still clamped tightly over my mouth.

Instead, the woman spoke with a reassuring, calm tone to the person in the hallway. If I hadn't known any better, I would have thought nothing was wrong at all. But why wasn't the innkeeper surprised to see a human? I abruptly remembered the books on the table and the strange writing that I couldn't read. The unfamiliar design of the furniture and the fact that these two humans were already downstairs when I woke up.

I was not in a Horde inn.

My empty stomach and lightheadedness became more apparent as my head reeled back and forth dizzily. The man noticed my movement and looked back at me. I shut my eyes, trying not to be sick and I heard him say a foreign word under his breath. I didn't have to know Common to tell that it was some sort of swear. He finally let his hand off of my face and I squinted at him, trying to figure out what he was cursing for. I followed his line of sight down to the bandages on my waist. They were stained with a growing blotch of crimson. I must have re-opened my wounds in my panic. I was in a cold sweat and was shaking badly. I barely made out the woman closing the door and turning back around before the world went dark again.

.

.

.

.

.

Thankfully, I woke up in a significantly lesser amount of pain and it took me half the time to collect my thoughts and remember what happened. I felt very mellow and calm, despite my situation.

It was dark in the room, except for the dim light of the half-moon illuminating the floor and wall next to the window. And underneath it was the woman, sleeping on a makeshift bed. She was faced away from me, her chest slowly rising and sinking.

I heard shuffling from the other side of the bed I was in and turned to find the man with a book in his hands, lit by the faint light of a candle. He was watching me, warily, as if I might start screaming again.

I felt like I should have been on edge, but something kept me from feeling any sort of unrest. My pulse was slow. I felt like just staring into space for hours.

"We gave you medicine that would ease the pain a bit and hopefully make you a little more placid than before," he said softly, closing the book and setting it on the shelf next to him. "It seems to be working for the most part."

I looked down at my waist at fresh, white bandages.

"She changed them for you," he said quickly, looking away.

I felt like I might have been embarrassed at the implication normally, but perhaps because of whatever medicine he gave me, it didn't really phase me. I just looked at him. He was leaned back in his chair, picking at a loose splinter on the shelf next to him. He glanced back at me, seemingly uncomfortable under my gaze.

"What?" he finally said, turning to me. I just stared at him. I didn't know what. "Say something," he said. "Or ask something. Don't just stare at me."

I didn't understand why it made him so uneasy. Perhaps it was a human thing? I said the first thing that had been on my mind since waking up.

"I'm hungry..."

He let out a breath. "That's it?" He got up and walked to the door. "I'll be right back. Don't...try anything..." he trailed off probably realizing that I wouldn't be foolish enough to make noise when I was wounded and hungry and he was bringing me food . He left, shutting the door softly behind him.

I turned back to look at the woman. She was still sleeping, faced away from me. I figured I should probably try to sit up, seeing as I would have a hard time eating laying down. I was worried that I might overdo it and open my wounds again because of the pain-killing medicine. I carefully used my arms to drag myself up, a little at a time. I rested my back against the headboard. The wood was cool against my fevered skin and the sheets fell down to my lap, leaving my shoulders bare against the chilled air. It was then that I noticed my chest piece and most of my armour were gone. I swept the contents of the room and found my armour and my bags on the other side of the shelf that the man had been sitting next to. A great deal of the items in my bag had been emptied onto the floor and the shelf next to it. At first I didn't really think much of it and I knew it was because of the drugs. But the more I stared at my scrolls, potions, and clothes laying about and the more I thought about the fact that this human had rummaged through my personal belongings the more annoyed I became. And the more annoyed I became, the more my injuries throbbed and hurt, which in turn annoyed me even more.

I finally heard the door creak open and the man stepped inside. "Why did you go through my bags?" I hissed as soon as the door was shut. He stopped when he heard me speak and I felt bad for snapping at him when I saw the bread and cheese he had brought me.

"Oh, right. Sorry about that, I guess," he said, setting the loaf of bread and small wheel of cheese on the shelf. "I thought I might have found something helpful."

I was barely listening to him anymore. My priorities drastically changed when I realised how horribly starving I was. The moments it took him to get out a small knife and slice the bread felt like an eternity to my churning, empty stomach. He handed me three slices of bread which I did not hesitate to eat entirely too fast. The bread was cold and hard but I thought it must have been the best I had ever tasted. By the time he handed me a slice of cheese I had already finished all of the bread. I was still starving, but had gained enough control to at least try and savour the rest. I noticed the man eyeing my inquisitively as I took tiny nibbles of the cheese.

"What is your name, Elf?"

I furrowed by brows at him. Why would he need my name? What a stupid question to ask me at a time like this. I decided to ignore the odd question and ask more important ones, myself. "Where is this place?"

He frowned at me, disappointed. "Nice to meet you..."

"And why..." I hesitated, not wanting to assume just yet that I had been saved. "...Why did you not let me die?"

He paused and the opened his mouth to answer before I thought to add, "Also, I would like to know how it is that a human can speak fluent Orcish. And are you going to kill me?"

He waited patiently for another moment to make sure I was finished and then said, "Firstly, as I have already said, Elf, I don't intend to harm you." This eased my nerves, although I reminded myself that I was in the hands of the Alliance and there could be worse fates than death. "Second," he continued, "you are at an Alliance inn near the southern area of Duskwood. My sister and I happened to find you on our way back to our home in Stormwind City. She happens to be an expert at first aid, but you're lucky I even convinced her to help you, Blood Elf."

"Verlyn," I said finally, opting for my name rather than "Blood Elf".

"Verlyn..." he mused. "That's a strange name you have isn't it?"

I frowned at him, a bit offended. Granted, my name was not particularly common, but both the prefix and suffix have been used in many noble Blood Elf family names through generations.

"Although I suppose it's only strange to me," he continued.

"How do you know Orcish?" I tried again.

He gave a small shrug. "I learned it," he said simply.

I squinted at him, more confused than ever. I was actually beginning to consider the possibility that he was not human at all. Maybe he was a member of the Horde in disguise, playing some sick, tasteless joke on me.

I shook my head at the man. "I don't understand."

"Well, it's true that the Alliance has very little access to Orcish texts but there are several places and books that I was able to-"

"No," I interrupted, becoming a bit impatient and nervous. "I don't understand what you're thinking. You _know_ that I'm a Blood Elf. A member of the Horde. Your sworn enemy. So why then, am I here in this bed, recovering from injuries when I should be dead on the jungle floor?"

There was a pregnant silence in the room that made me realize that in my confusion and exasperation, my voice had made a gradual crescendo to well above a whisper. The mans gaze focused behind me now and I followed it across the room to the woman. She had sat up sometime while I was talking but hadn't made a sound. Looking at her, even in the dim light, I could immediately tell that she and the man were siblings, even if he hadn't mentioned it earlier. Their features were remarkably similar and they both shared the same raven hair colour. The moonlight from the window lit up one half of her face like daylight and left the other half as dark as pitch. The way she was glowering at me made me remember what Azahel used to say about my parents when they saw him: "staring daggers".

"You are no enemy of mine," the man's voice and peaceful words challenged the bloodlust I saw in the woman's eyes. I turned back to him and fixed my gaze on his eyes. The two of them could have been twins if not for the fact that her eyes were an icy cold blue and his were warm and honey coloured. He stared back at me with as much intensity as the woman but instead of malice, I was met with a striking honesty and magnanimity.

"The reason I saved you from dying that night. is because you're a living being..." he averted his gaze and seemed to be having trouble with his words. "...and no person should have to die like that."

I opened my mouth to respond but nothing came out.

I started when I heard the woman's voice from directly behind me and I turned to find her standing at the bedside now, only a few feet from me. It was rather alarming that although elves had exceptional hearing, every movement she made had been soundless.

"She spoke to the man in Common in a higher pitched, feminine voice that did not match with her appearance at all. "Odes osh vos koshvel'an."

I spun back around to gage the man's reaction. His face was stone as he glared back at her. He said sternly, "Mod vrum agol re logal ithtos."

The woman's eyes flared up like fire at this. They exchanged a few more words. All I could tell from watching the dispute was they they were arguing. And I was in the middle. I knew that the outcome of the argument would mean my life or death, depending on who won.

The bickering finally came to an end when the woman spit a final few unfriendly sounding words at him, looked at me with unmistakable disgust, and stormed out of the room.

My heart was racing as the man got up quickly to close the gaping door behind her. He sighed deeply and turned back toward me.

"What will happen to me then?" I asked when he said nothing.

He paused for a moment, studying me. Finally, he cleared his throat and said, "In addition to saving you from certain death, I will also provide you with shelter and safety until you are able to travel again."

I let out a breath of air in relief. I could have cried out of happiness and exhaustion.

"But in exchange," he continued, "I would like you to do something for me."

I narrowed my eyes at him, suspiciously. "I am no spy," I warned.

He shook his head. "I won't ask you to turn on your people." He walked to the foot of the bed and said seriously, "I want you to take me to your city, Orgrimmar."

**Hey guys! Remember me? I am, in fact, not dead! And here's the next chapter of Cross My Heart to go along with that bit of good news. This has been the longest chapter so far, and the one with the most dialogue by a long shot. The story is really moving now! The reason I didn't update in so long after the first two chapters is because this chapter actually required me to develop two new characters' personalities in detail, and to plan out the details of the plot too. And I was procrastinating :P But I have a ton of stuff for the next chapter planned out already so I don't think it will take as long for me to update this time :) What really got me writing again was actually a single review made about a week ago. And I know how annoying it is when a fanfic you get into stops short and doesn't get updated for months so I like speed wrote this chapter. Please don't forget to leave R&R if you like the story! Thank you for reading! Happy Holidays and Happy New year everyone! :)**

**EDIT:**** I changed some mistakes to correct them and added some randomly missing words. I changed where I called the Blood Elf language "Thassarian" to the correct "Thalassian" (thank you very much for pointing that out to me). And I noticed for the first time that my breaks didn't show up in the online file...so there was no little stars after she passed out the first time so I added periods. Sorry for the trouble! **


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